


cobbled glass

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blades of Marmora AU, M/M, Slow Burn, keith's not good at identifying his own feelings, low key mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9453509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: One of the first things Keith learns about himself is that he isdifferent.--An AU where Keith was always part of the Blades of Marmora and the Paladin's of Voltron come looking for the Red Paladin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is inspired by this is deadass gorgeous fanart ([reblog here](https://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/156157214425/istehlurvz-full-view-for-full-impact-now-that), [RT here](https://twitter.com/istehlurvz/status/822653868618252288)) by Sam/istehlurvz. Please show them loads and loads of love for such a KICK ASS piece of art.
> 
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> I tried to beta this myself at 2:30am so there's gonna be errors here :x Sorry bout that folks.

One of the first things Keith learns about himself is that he is _different_.

 

He is not all Galra like the rest of the Blades. He is part Terran. Something that is considered a thread of weakness running through his core. A fault that cannot be corrected and cannot be helped. He has the sense memory of a time when he was young and the Blades expectations from him were minimal. They doted on him, caring for him with more care than a regular Galra child. Because he was considered frail. _Lesser_. As a result of this mindset, they never expected him to perform as well as the others in _any_ capacity. Least of all as a member of the Blades.

 

It was only at the request of his mother that Kolivan agreed to shelter him, something Keith overhears a few members whispering. Her only request to their leader. He could not help but honor her request, despite his misgivings. The memory of that conversation burns. The way his face had flushed in mortified anger and then angry determination. He would prove them wrong. Keith would prove himself worthy. He would honor his mother. 

 

Keith surpasses _all_ expectations set for him, in _every_ capacity. Despite the fact that he has no family and he has no home, Keith makes it his goal to thrive. The environment no longer matters. It doesn't matter which base, planet, or family he is sent too, Keith soaks in all the information he can. He learns multiple languages and thrice as many skills, including how to wield his mother’s knife and a Galra blade until they feel like extensions of himself.

 

He returns to the Blades well after he has passed adulthood, ready to go through with the Trials and follow in his mother's footsteps. When he presents this request to Kolivan, Antok scoffs and tells him if he wants to kill himself he ought to fling himself into a black hole of his choice. Ulaz eyes him intently, mouth covered by his hand. Keith stares back, coolly wondering how successful the Galran has been in infiltrating the witch Haggar’s ranks. Kolivan studies him as well but with less curiosity than Ulaz. These three, and Thace, were akin to father's to him. But now, they stand judges. Determining his worth to the cause. 

 

“This is what my mother wanted.” Keith reminds Kolivan firmly. “I am ready.”

 

Kolivan nods. Antok scoffs. Ulaz continues to observe him. Keith suspects he's been spending too much time around the creepy old witch Zarkon favors.

 

They don’t expect him to pass through the first room, much less the six. Although, he admits to himself with a weary chuckle, they probably never expected him to slide down the shaft. As he steps into the next room, a hand pressed against his shoulder wound, Keith mutters, “I guess I wasn’t supposed to go through that door after all.”

 

Despite all expectations, and much to Antok’s displeasure, Keith successfully awakens his blade. He is praised by all and asked what test did he have to pass in the end. Keith doesn’t tell anyone. He guards the memory of his mother jealously, unwilling to tell anyone that he’d chosen to sever his connection with the past and let go of his father.

 

He is still part Terran after all. That kind of emotional weakness comes with the territory. But Keith manages to suppress it for the most part. Instead he turns his anger, frustration, rage towards the Galra into a finely honed weapon. With patience as his hammer, Keith shapes his emotions into a weapon sharper and more deadly than his luxite blade. His finest creation.

 

Shortly after he succeeds in passing the Trials, Kolivan gives him permission to participate in their missions. Small supply runs and transferring intel from one point to another at first. Significant missions eventually. Information extraction, assassinations, meeting up with their agents. But it doesn't feel like it's enough. Keith yearns for the day where he’ll be able to contribute more significantly to the cause.

 

And when the opportunity presents itself, it’s not what Keith had _ever_ anticipated.

 

\--

 

 _So these are the Paladins of Voltron_ , Keith thinks to himself as he watches the pair approach Kolivian. They're _s_ _maller than I expected_.

 

Their white armor makes them stand out amongst the purple and black interiors of their base. A star sparkling in the midst of a dead galaxy. Keith considers it a fitting analogy. The small green one sticks out worse than a _Tatsur_ ’ _s_ tentacle however with the way she's glaring at her surroundings. Keith smirks behind his mask at the thought, turning his attention towards Ulaz as he makes his case for an alliance with Voltron.

 

Personally Keith doesn’t care for it one way or another. It’s one more alliance in the entire stack. Better if they have it, a minor loss if they don’t. So he listens with half a ear, mind already pondering what he’ll do once they’ve been dismissed. 

 

“There’s something else,” the Black Paladin speaks finally. The clarity of his voice carries up to the ceiling, ringing clear and true as a bell. It catches everyone’s attention, including Keith. “We came here in search of the Red Paladin as well.”

 

As one, everyone’s gaze turns to the Black Paladin, who peers unflinchingly at Kolivan. No one say a word. There’s barely a whisper when they move to stare at the back of the Paladin's head. But Keith is certain that this Terran knows he’s captured the attention of everyone present.

 

“The Red Paladin?" Kolivan inquires, "What makes you believe he is here?”

 

“We just know.” The small Green Paladin stubbornly insists. Keith wonders if she’s aware of how obviously she’s gnashing her teeth. She clearly doesn’t want to be here. Keith wonders if it’s because they’re all Galra.

 

The Black Paladin drops his hand on top of her shoulders. It’s gentle censure rather than a stern warning. It still has the smaller Paladin obediently deflating within a heartbeat.  _Interesting_.

 

“The Red lion brought us here. After we took her back from Zarkon, she’s been non-responsive. But after we found Ulaz and decided to come here? She insisted we bring her to your base. That’s a good a sign as any that her pilot is here.”

 

Ulaz speaks next, “This is true. I saw it with my own eyes.”

 

A ripple of interest spreads through Keith. Suddenly an alliance with Voltron seems more of an eventuality rather than a possibility. He wonders how Kolivan will proceed.

 

“So you seek to build an alliance by taking one of the Blades into your team.” When the Black Paladin nods, Kolivan continues, “I will consider it. You are free to return to your Castle if you wish. If you prefer to stay and search for your Paladin, we can prepare rooms for you.”

 

The pair exchange a look before the Black Paladin says, “We’ll stay. We just need to tell the others.”

 

“Very well.”

 

\--

 

Kolivan gives the Paladins time until the solar flare clears up to find their Paladin among their ranks. Two _quintants_ , their leader had said, was surely more than enough time to find their pilot.

 

He wonders how the process words. Does it involve a test? Trials like the ones the Blades have to go through? On the other hand, the Lions are machines. Perhaps all they need is a skilled enough pilot.

 

“Thinking about finding out if you’re suitable enough to fly the Red Lion?”

 

A voice inquires from his left. It’s Antok. Over the years as Keith has proven his worth to their group, Antok’s hostility has turned into grudging respect. He has matched that respect and as such, they’re on better terms than they used to be. Although Keith still can't find himself believing there was ever a time Antok used to dote on him. But Kolivan insists that Antok would be his most tender caretaker when he was but a baby.

 

Back to the situation at hand however. Keith's eyes narrow slightly at the tall alien. Antok’s question is neutral. Too neutral. Keith can’t help but wonder what he wants.

 

“No. I’m quite satisfied in my current position.”

 

Which is the absolute truth. Kolivan has been entrusting him with more important and strategically significant missions ever since he managed to steal information from one of Zarkon’s commanders out from under their noses.

 

Antok grunts, seemingly pleased with Keith's answer and moves on. Keith shakes his head and carries on to the training room. 

 

In the end however, there’s no avoiding Kolivan’s orders that they all _must_ go to the surface and face the Red Lion. It's all part of their agreement with the Paladins. Everyone on their base must be tested.

 

“If you hold potential, the Lion will respond to you.” 

 

Keith tries not to roll his eyes at Kolivan's explanation. Who has ever heard of a _machine_ responding on its own to someone. Sounds like _vonole_ crap to him. Glancing around the room, Keith sees his skepticism mirrored on many a face. On the other side of the hall, the two Paladins sit side by side, whispering furiously. Well. The Green Paladin seems to be whispering furiously, the Black Paladin seems to be trying to figure out what he’s eating.

 

Her wide eyes keep darting over to him, like she can’t believe there’s a Terran within the Blades. Keith stares her down, feeling smug satisfaction when she breaks their gaze to whisper something to her comrade again.

 

“You’d think she’s never seen another Terran before with the way she’s staring at you.” His friend mutters from the side.

 

Snorting, Keith answers, “It’s more likely she’s wondering what’s a Terran doing in a group of Galrans.”

 

His friend chuckles in amusement. “Probably. I heard Vartox say these Terran’s have only been in space for less than twenty _quintants_. They do not understand the complexity of this war. I don't think they even realize the Blades consist of more than just Galrans.”

 

That would certainly explain the Green Paladin’s shock. Keith glances back at their table. Instead of angry-curious brown eyes staring him down, he finds his gaze connecting with serene gray. For some reason, Keith finds himself holding his breath.

 

Keith is keenly aware of his heart beat and how it pulses in his ears. He’s certain that the temperature changes inside the hall because he feels stifled. It’s so hard to breathe. Is he sick? Was it the meal? Keith’s not exactly fond of _U’juli_ stew but it’s never made him feel sick before.

 

“Keith?” The heavy hand that comes to rest on his shoulder jolts Keith. He blinks rapidly at his friends concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

 

He rubs the heel of his palm against his chest, trying to soothe the ache away. It doesn't help. “I’m not sure.”

 

The memory of those clear gray eyes haunt him in his sleep.

 

\--

 

They all have to present themselves to the Red Lion today. There’s no avoiding it. Keith catches muted excitement on a few faces when Kolivan announces this. The larger majority doesn’t seem to care. But that doesn’t stop them from gossiping until their turn.

 

“Ulaz said he _met_ King Alfor’s daughter.”

 

Keith wonders what she’s like.

 

“An alliance with Voltron will help us defeat Zarkon much faster than we anticipated!”

 

He wonders about that. 

 

“Do you think they’ll expect us to participate in their missions? Or can we call upon the Paladins of Voltron for help when we require?”

 

 _That’s how an alliance tends to work_ , he has to stop himself from sarcastically pointing out.

 

He’s part of the third group taken above. The four of them stand evenly spaced apart behind Atok, who stands before the doors with his arms crossed across his chest. Despite the fact that he doesn’t hold much interest in being a Paladin, Keith cannot restrain his excitement. This _is_ Voltron after all. It is quite literally the stuff of legends. His anticipation mounts the closer they get to the surface, wondering what a Lion of Voltron looks like.

 

As it turns out, it’s a huge robot in the shape of a lion. It’s impressive, Keith will give it that. Although he’s still confused how a machine is capable of determining a worthy pilot. Surely it should be the other way around? But more importantly...

 

_How are we supposed to prove anything when it’s got a particle barrier up?_

 

Ulaz and the other two Paladin stand outside the webbed barrier, quietly talking amongst themselves as their small group approaches. They move apart as soon as their group is within earshot. The Black Paladin stands a step ahead of the other two, watching the Blades as they stand in a line before him.

 

His gray eyes are tinted thanks to his visor. Keith feels the tiniest twinge of disappointment. The Black Paladin meets each of their gaze before addressing them. “I’d like you to approach the Lion and see if you feel a calling. You'll know if you're meant to be a Paladin.”

 

 _Well that’s vague_ , Keith rolls his eyes behind his mask.

 

There’s a sudden chilly feeling causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. A cold, slick _hiuly_ slithering down his spine. It’s a feeling he gets when he’s being watched. Keith’s gaze darts over to the Green Paladin, but she’s busy tapping away on her computer. Ulaz is observing the Black Paladin, who is busy talking with Antok.

 

_So who is..._

 

Slowly. Ever so slowly, Keith raises his eyes up at the large Lion sitting on its hindquarters. As he peers into the golden eyes, he _swears_ he sees intelligence there. A consciousness that is _observing_ _him_. A cold thrill runs down his spine as soon as he realizes what he has just thought.

 

_No. It can’t be._

 

Trepidation floods him when Antok says, “We’ll start from them this side. Tarrox, you first.” The Blade on his right swiftly strides forward. Keith feels cold sweat dotting his forehead, sliding down his cheek as worry swirls inside his gut.

 

 _It can’t be it can’t be it can’t be_.

 

There’s no reaction from the Lion. Not even when Tarrox tentatively places his hand against the red particle barrier. Keith can tell his friend is disappointed.

 

“Keith.”

 

A split second of hesitation. That’s all it is. But Antok and Ulaz catch it. Keith is keenly aware of the weight of their gaze as he strides towards the Lion. But the combined weight of their questioning looks is _nothing_ compared with the sheer _certainty_ flooding him that _he_ is _meant_ to be this Lion’s Paladin. Keith simply  _knows_. 

 

He presses his palm against the particle barrier and feels a shot of heat run through him. A lion roars inside his head. Behind him, he hears Antok hiss in surprise. The Green Paladin mutters, “What the quiznak.” as the particle barrier drops.

 

He hears several blades being pulled out of their sheathes as the Lion begins to moves, preparing to fend off an attack. But Keith quickly raises a hand to stop them. _It’s okay_ , he wants to tell them as the Lion drops down to her belly. _She’s not going to harm you_.

 

Keith smiles at the nudge he feels against his consciousness when he presses his palm against Red’s nose. It's curious but cautious. She’s a fighter. A warrior. Keith can sense it through this mysterious bond that’s unfurling through him. She’s a kindred spirit who demands respect and offers it back only to the worthy.

 

He presses his forehead against the cool metal and promises, _I will be worthy of your trust. I swear it._

 

There’s a pulse of red behind his eyelids followed by a gentle purring noise before Red fades out of his consciousness. He's gained her approval.

 

When Keith turns around, he finds himself the center of everyone's attention. But the only gaze that he meets, is the steady, knowing gaze of the Black Paladin. Keith holds the look, jutting his chin up in acceptance of his role. He holds the proud prose even as the Black Paladin approaches him.

 

“Keith, was it?” the Terran asks. When Keith nods, his expression softens into a smile. “Welcome to Team Voltron.”

 

\--

 

Keith watches the Pidge throw the slim mind reading device to the floor with an angry noise before stomping out of the room. He glances coolly over at Hunk, who sheepishly shrugs at Shiro. “Sorry. I’m just a naturally curious mind.”

 

With a sigh, Shiro pulls his own device off and holds it delicately between his crossed legs. “That doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to go snooping around in Pidge’s head, Hunk. Would you like if someone started poking through your personal stuff without your permission?”

 

He misses the Yellow Paladin’s response because the Blue Paladin, sitting next to him curiously asks, “How’d you do that so easily?”

 

Keith tilts his head slightly, "Do what?"

 

"The focusing part?"

 

“Meditation is one of the fundamentals of our training.”

 

Lance’s eyebrows rise in curious amazement, “Huh. Cool.”

 

Not that Keith strictly cares, but hes relieved the other Paladin’s are starting to warm up to him. If their whole mission is to succeed, if they’re to form Voltron, they need to trust Keith. At the very least they need to be able to trust Keith to have their backs. And sure he’s _said_ as much, sworn to fighting for their cause and protecting the team but the others distrust hung heavy between them. _Especially_ from the Princess Allura.

 

She is as beautiful as Ulaz had said she was. As pretty as the stars in the sky and made of the same hard steel. Keith was keenly aware that his greatest challenge would be to prove his trustworthiness to the Princess more than anyone else.

 

The other Paladin’s have been easier to win over by comparison. Answering Hunk’s questions to allay his worries and satisfy his curiosity has been irritating but manageable. Getting Pidge on his side involved sharing his Blade of Marmora suit with her and showing her how the face mask worked. She’s been happily tinkering away in her lab trying to reverse engineer it. Lance has been cautious around him, studying him from a distance while occasionally asking him questions. Keith can appreciate the cautious approach.

 

“Want me to come with you, buddy?” Lance asks Hunk as he gets up to his feet. "You can hide behind me in case Pidge doesn't want to accept your apology."

 

Immediately Hunk whines, "Why wouldn't she accept my apology?"

 

Tugging the mindbond creating device off his head, Lance shrugs, "Just tossing that possibility out there. Think fast!" He tosses it at Keith, who despite the sudden throw, catches the delicate device in one hand with a confused look. "Damn those reflexes. Come on Hunk, let's get outta here."

 

That said, Lance throws his arm around his larger friends shoulders and walks out of the room.

 

And then there’s Shiro.

 

“At least we actually managed to joining our Lions together in the holo-sim today.” Shiro points out with a smile. The Black Paladin is seated across from him, legs crossed and mindbond device held between his gloved hands. 

 

Keith carefully takes his own device off, avoiding the Terran’s gaze. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say. Obviously Keith can recognize an attempt to hold friendly conversation but he just doesn’t know what to say. When it’s just him and Shiro alone together, his throat has developed the horrible habit of closing up. This coupled with the sudden blankness that fills his mind, Keith finds his conversations with Shiro horribly stilted. 

 

He swallows through the sudden bout of dry mouth and mutters, “We need to be better if we have to beat Zarkon.”

 

“That’s true. But you also can’t fake bonds like this. They need to be built naturally.” 

 

Acquiescing the point with a small nod, Keith continues, “Maybe what we need is something more hands on.” Now he finds the courage to look up and meet Shiro’s gentle gray eyes. Always so gentle. “We could try more practical methods along with the strategies we’re using right now to speed things up.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Sparring each other.”

 

Shiro’s eyes narrow thoughtfully for a long moment before his expression relaxes with a shrug. “It’s worth a shot.”

 

\--

 

As it turns out, Keith’s strategy works. Sparring with each other increases their respect for each other while deepening their bonds as a team. Keith feels a rare prickle of pride running up his spine when Shiro pats his shoulder and murmurs, “Great idea, Keith.”

 

He can only nod jerkily, hoping and praying that Shiro will accept his flushed face as a side effect of having just recently gotten off the mats. As Shiro steps towards Pidge and Lance, who stand in the middle of the floor waiting for Shiro, Keith rubs his throat wondering if he’s ill.

 

“You okay there, dude?” Hunk worriedly asks next to him. His concerned brown eyes dart between his eyes and his hand. “Not catching a cold are you?”

 

“I don’t think so. My throat’s just a little dry.”

 

The Yellow Paladin immediately presses a water pouch into his hands with a concerned look. “Can you even _get_ sick in space? Would it be worse than being sick on Earth?”

 

Keith stares at Hunk for a long moment before confusedly answering, “I don’t know? I’ve never been to Earth.”

 

“ _Seriously_ ?” He yells the question loud enough to catch the attention of the other three Paladin, who turn curious looks their way. “ _Never_?”

 

As Keith slowly shakes his head and takes a sip of water, Lance asks, “Never what?”

 

Suddenly they’re talking about Earth and its foods and habitats, leaving Keith feeling like an unnecessary part of the conversation. He quietly sips his water and thinks about sneaking out the door. This isn't a conversation he's contributing in. Surely they won't miss him slipping away. But then Shiro lightly presses their shoulders together. The touch is electric, sharpening Keith’s focus to a razor’s edge as he stares at the taller man.

 

“Maybe one day you’ll get to go there.”

 

There’s a kindness in Shiro’s voice that unsettles Keith. It’s a gentle vibration that rattles his being, making him feel off center and unbalanced. If only there was a term for what the man made him feel. Keith swallows his unease down but the lump in his throat remains. He gives a slow nod and murmurs, “Maybe.”

 

\--

 

This, Keith realizes, is a pattern of behavior Shiro follows with him. He tries to include Keith into their conversations as much as possible. Despite Keith’s efforts to keep the others at a distance, he finds himself being drawn into their group. Rather than being simple teammates, Keith realizes he’s starting to think of them as friends.

 

But the same doesn’t apply to Shiro. No. Shiro is _more_ . Shiro is _different_ . Shiro is a puzzle he cannot solve. Which is frustrating because it seems to Keith it shouldn’t be so difficult. The answer eludes him while he _knows_ it’s right within his grasp.

 

As the bonds of trust and friendship between them are solidified, they successfully form Voltron. This immediately speeds things up. Working with the Blade of Marmora, they plan new missions. Simple ones where they sneak on-board Galra ships to gather intel. Daring ones where they have to fight the Galra troops down standing back-to-back while they yell for extraction. And Keith feels the distance between them growing shorter with every day.

 

Every success strengthens their bonds. He finds himself bickering with Lance like they were brothers. Keith joins Hunk in his cooking and engineering endeavors. He and Pidge exchange nervous laughs every time they barely avoid getting punished for butchering an Altean word. Even Allura softens up to him, praising him when he successfully manages to catch Rolo and Nyma before they can evade their grasp.

 

Keith hasn't felt this close to anyone in his life. Not even the Blades that he grew up with. But there is a bond that supersede all. And that is his connection to Shiro. His body continues to betray him whenever they are alone together. It's thrilling and confusing in equal parts. But because Shiro was the first one to grant him full acceptance, Keith can't help but hold him a step above the rest. As a mark of respect. Every pat on the shoulder he gets from Shiro is a tiny treasure Keith tucks away inside of him, relishing the fact that he's the only one who gets those quick touches.

 

Then comes the day when they manage to capture Sendak. It had been a hard battle where they had almost lost the ship. But success had been theirs. At the end of the battle, Sendak lay in suspension in a pod. There's no telling when, or  _if_ the Galran will wake up but that doesn't stop Shiro from firmly stating he's going to spend his day standing in front of the pod staring at Sendak. 

 

The declaration raises a few surprised eyebrows but no one questions him. Sure they stay for a while but they all eventually leave. Keith finds himself choking down a frustrated cry because  _how_ could they leave Shiro at such a moment? Can't they see the tension that he's carrying between his shoulder blades? Can't they see the precipice Shiro's standing on right now? How he needs a hand to pull him back. Not push him forward.

 

Allura is one of the last to leave, observing Shiro worriedly. But her eyes dart away down the corridor, where more responsibilities lie. He feels a twinge of pity for the war princess. Always so many responsibilities to tend too and so little time. Keith notes her concern and quietly tells her, “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him.”

 

After the last few battles where Keith had swooped in to save one fellow Paladin or another, Allura’s coldness towards him seems to have melted away completely. Sure enough, her eyes _are_ cool when she looks at Keith. But they soften when she looks back at Shiro, who stands before Sendak’s pod. When she looks back at Keith, her worried expression is back. But she nods and leaves them be.

 

Once they’re alone, Keith moves to stand next to Shiro. Against his right side. Their shoulders brush together as he comes to a halt. Shiro’s face turns half an inch to observe Keith, watching him stare at Sendak’s form.

 

“You don’t have to do this.”

 

Keith crosses his arms, mirroring Shiro’s pose. “Neither do you.”

 

There’s no way to keep track of how long they stand there, shoulder to shoulder staring at Sendak held in statis. Keith wryly realizes all those hours of standing at attention in the Hall have become a boon in his moments. Shiro’s boot scrapes against the floor as he shifts his weight to his other foot.

 

“Tired?” Keith asks casually.

 

“No,” is Shiro’s immediately retort, followed by a softer. “Not really.”

 

Keith’s surprised by the admission but he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he narrows his eyes at the small containment pod next to the chamber and the essence glowing within it. He's tempted to tap it. If this really is Sendak's essence then Keith would like to take a chance and annoy the Commander. 

 

“Do you think he can hear us?”

 

There’s a grim edge to Shiro’s voice when he answers, “We could always test that theory.”

 

Snorting, Keith sarcastically asks, “What’s he going to do? Glow once for yes and twice for no?”

 

A pause hovers in the cold hallway, two ticks long. The silence is broken by a sudden snort from Shiro that has Keith turning in surprise. The taller man is hiding his grin under his palm but there’s no hiding the way his body shakes with mirth. Keith blinks in surprise, unable to explain why he suddenly feels so warm.

 

“ _That_ ,” Shiro says in between chuckles, “was _the last_ thing I expected you to say.”

 

Feeling too big for his skin, Keith can’t do anything but stare at Shiro as he wipes mirthful tears out of his eyes. A strange sense of pride floods him because  _he_ made Shiro laugh.  _Him_. Not Lance, not Pidge, not Hunk.  _Him_.

 

“Thanks Keith,” the man beams at him. “I needed that.”

 

Keith shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “Anytime?”

 

It's the last peaceful moment they have until night falls.

 

\--

 

They wordlessly decide to take the next day off, mostly out of respect for Allura. Keith can’t imagine what it must feel like losing your family twice but he imagines having time to mourn the loss would help.

 

Lance takes the day to rest. Pidge hides in her lab. Hunk continues to experiment in the kitchen. Keith carries on with his usual routine. Training after breakfast, Altean lessons before lunch, meditation afterwards, and some light reading till dinner. Instead of the usual group training, Keith indulges in one-on-one fights with the Gladiator. After a shower, language lessons, and lunch, Keith heads to his favorite room to meditate.

 

He blinks in surprise when the door opens and reveals Shiro’s broad frame standing in front of the large window. There's something breath taking about the man's figure highlighted by stars and a vivid pink nebula. As he turns to see who has opened the door, Keith is already taken a step back saying, “Oh. Sorry. I’ll just-”

 

As he makes to go, Shiro calls out, “You don’t have to go.” And when he sees Keith hesitate, softens his voice, “I’d appreciate the company.”

 

He can’t find it within himself to deny such a gentle request. Keith finds himself walking up next to Shiro. As soon as he's standing next to the man, Keith blinks and says, “You look terrible.” And winces immediately at his own bluntness. 

 

Shiro smiles wryly at him, “That obvious I didn’t sleep well?”

 

“Yes.” Keith hesitates a long moment before slowly asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

He can’t deny a certain measure of relief when Shiro slowly shakes his head because Keith feels wildly unequipped to comfort Shiro. But Keith also cannot deny feeling slightly disappointed. He tries not to take it as a sign of distrust but rather than sometimes, you don’t want to tell someone the reason why you couldn’t sleep at night.

 

Keith stares out at the planets and stars for guidance. How does one go about comforting someone gently? Gentleness isn’t something that comes easily to Keith, if at all. He’s a collection of sharp-edged, broken pieces of glass glued together to a steel frame. Handle with care. He’s clumsy when it comes to being kind to someone. It doesn’t come easily to him like it does to Hunk or Lance. Or even Pidge. Keith is... he feels himself lacking in something very essentially human when he struggles on how he can help Shiro feel better.

 

He clenches and unclenches his fists, grinding his teeth as he forms, breaks, and reshapes sentences inside his head. His hands bleed trying to whittle his sharp words down to something soft. They’re not suitable enough. They’re not _kind_ enough.

 

“Keith.”

 

His name never sounds so soft as it does when Shiro says it. Especially when they’re alone. It jerks Keith’s gaze up into tender gray eyes. Then down to stare at the fingers that have wrapped themselves around his wrist. Handle with care, he wants to tell Shiro. You might cut yourself on a sharp corner.

 

“Thank you.”

 

With a confused noise, Keith says, “But I didn’t even do anything.”

 

Shiro’s grip tightens around his wrist. Keith expects to hear blood drip-drop onto the metal floor any second now. He takes a step closer and Keith feels the world start to tilt. It’s just a few inches of difference but Keith feels like he’s staring up at the sky what with the way the stars glitter in Shiro’s eyes.

 

“You’re trying to figure out what to say to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

 

There’s gentle amusement in the question. Not an iota of teasing in it. But it causes Keith to flush anyways. Was he being that obvious? His gaze falls down, unable to hold up under Shiro’s tender scrutiny.

 

Keith is made of broken pieces of glass. The only reason people handle him with care is to make sure they don't hurt themselves. But the gentleness with which Shiro touches his face? Slowly raising Keith’s chin up until they’re looking at each other? It's roots like in the desire to take care of Keith.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He’s not sure what to say. Keith’s not even sure what he’s _feeling_ when Shiro leans in. His eyes fly open, uncertain and surprised when their lips meet in the softest press. It ignites a soft spark in his belly, birthing a fire he wasn’t aware of capable of being born out of such a gentle touch. His eyes slip shut as the contact lingers, leaning in to keep the connection when Shiro leans back.

 

The unexpected touch and the way Shiro’s hands draw him closer are epiphanies. So many unexplained factors that Keith’s been puzzling over suddenly fall into place. And as each puzzle piece falls into place to reveal the bigger picture, Keith grabs back at Shiro.

 

 _I like him I like him I like him_.

 

It’s a three word song that sings in his veins as they pull apart, panting softly as they press their noses together. It’s the answer that he hasn’t been able to see for so long. Keith huffs, knocking their foreheads together with a quiet, “I’m such an idiot.”

 

“Hmm?” Shiro asks softly, hands rest lightly on Keith’s back.

 

Shaking his head, Keith brushes their lips together for more kisses while murmuring, “I’ll tell you later.”

 

How delightfully strange it is that kissing Shiro clears his mind of all thoughts faster than any meditation ever has.

 

\--

 

Later, when they’re walking to the dining room, linked hands swaying gently between them, Keith explains. Shiro laughs and squeezes his hand.

 

“Better late than never.”

 

Keith makes a face. He’d rather sooner than later but. He supposes Shiro is right.

 

When they’re a few steps away from the dining room, Keith stops mid-step. He stares pensively at the open doorway and the sound of happy conversations pouring out into the hallway. Shiro watches him carefully. Pitches his voice low before asking, “Ready to tell them?”

 

“Yes.”

 

\--

 

Keith has grown up believing he is different. That he needs to be more Galra than human. That he needs to push his human impulses into the dirt. However being around these Paladins has helped him realized how wrong he has been. His humanity has been nothing but a boon. It made him different in a good way. It gave him the stubborn persistence needed to succeed where all others thought he would fail.

 

It has also allowed him to open up his heart to these people. To this new group of friends, his new family, who all exclaim their surprise at them but share no disapproval that they like each other. There is only support. Which he accepts stiffly, not sure what to do with himself when Hunk grabs him _and_ Shiro in a celebratory hug. He turns to Shiro helplessly amused and moved, not sure what his mouth is doing. It feels like the shakiest, happiest smile turning his lips up, up, up. Shiro laughs at him, laughs at Hunk and tells him to let them down.

 

"You're starting to scare Keith."

 

"Whoops, sorry about that." Hunk immediately puts them down on their feet. There's a teasing twinkle in his eyes when he says to Keith, "I forgot Galra Keith still isn't good with his feelings."

 

Old familiar irritation crawls up his spine at that joke but Keith finds himself letting go with a tired exhale. "Yes. I'm still getting used to these pesky human emotions our species have."

 

Hunk points at him. Points at Shiro. Points at the others before asking, "You all heard that right? He just made a  _joke_!"

 

Shiro pulls him against his side with a laugh, kissing his hair. The wave of happiness that rolls over Keith seems overwhelming. But with Shiro and the others by his side, Keith's confident he'll learn how to stay afloat. 


End file.
